


Anything For You

by RobinPlaysTrumpet15



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: Allergies, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anaphylaxis, Blood and Injury, EDITH Glasses (Marvel), Gen, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Not Spider-Man: Far From Home Compliant, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Whump, Peter Parker is a Mess, Protective Tony Stark, Severe allergic reaction, Spider-Man: Far From Home (Movie) Spoilers, Spider-son and Iron dad, Tony Stark Lives, do not copy to another site, i like it this way, mentions of fake death, minor allergic reaction, no it doesn't make sense, the author vents feels about their allergy, word vomit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:21:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26115616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RobinPlaysTrumpet15/pseuds/RobinPlaysTrumpet15
Summary: While Tony's recovering, he's thankful for Edith keeping an eye on his kid.Or, Peter's allergic to mint. And, as it turns out, trains.Heavy canon divergence from Endgame and Far From Home.
Relationships: Happy Hogan & Peter Parker, Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe) & Tony Stark, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 11
Kudos: 224





	Anything For You

**Author's Note:**

> So this fic mostly started as a vent piece where I make Peter suffer with me through my mint allergy. And then it just kinda snowballed from there until I got this. So, yeah. I hope you like it.

Peter takes a deep breath just as a familiar smell hits his nostrils. Immediately, a sharp pang lances through Peter’s head. Nausea builds quickly in his stomach. It was just a quick whiff. The scent is already gone, but the damage is done. His head is splitting and he’s sure he’ll puke any second.

Peter groans.

God, why did anyone even _like_ mint gum? Or chapstick? Or lotion? Or whatever it is this time. Even before the spiderbite, Peter hadn’t been a huge fan. It’s an overpowering scent and taste. And now that Peter’s very being has been screwed up, messed with, and changed around with superpowers and enhanced spider DNA, his opinions of mint have gotten even worse. Just the smell of it didn’t used to hurt him so much, but now it makes him feel a bit like he’s dying.

Maybe that’s dramatic, but Peter doesn’t think so.

_”Peter?”_ Edith says. _”My sensors indicate you are experiencing a mild reaction to an allergen. Are you in need of medication?”_

Peter groans again and rubs hard at his forehead. It doesn’t stave off the headache, but it makes him feel slightly better to do something with his hands.

“N-no, Edith. I’m fine. It’ll go away in a second.”

_”Okay, Peter. I will continue to monitor in case your reaction worsens.”_

Peter nods to himself. He’s not sure if that’s something the AI would recognize or not. Tony was good at what he did, after all, and his AIs have always been an indication of that.

He closes his eyes and slumps himself down further into his seat on the bus. If he pulls the collar of his shirt up over his nose so he can stop smelling _it_ , he’ll be alright soon. There’s nothing to do until it goes away.

Maybe he’ll get to sleep some before they get to wherever Fury’s taking his school trip.

*

Tony looks up suddenly from whatever movie Morgan picked out for them to watch together when an alert from Edith pops up. He pauses the movie so he can read it properly, and so Morgan doesn’t miss anything. She doesn’t like missing parts of her favorite movies.

“What’s that, Dad?”

Tony scans the message quickly.

“It’s nothing, love,” Tony assures his daughter. “Edith is just watching over your brother for me.”

“Is he okay?” the five, almost six-year-old asks. She looks up at him with those big brown eyes, like she’s still deciding if she needs to be upset or not.

Tony smiles at her.

“He’s fine, Mo,” he promises. “Just a minor allergic reaction. Peter can’t have mint, so even when he smells it, it can make him sick. And because Edith is keeping an eye on him, she tells me when stuff happens.”

Morgan frowns.

“Allergies are bad. What if he needs to go to the doctor?”

Tony ruffles the girl’s brown hair and restarts the movie.

“Not this time. He’s okay. If something more serious happens, I’ll know about it, and we’ll send your big brother some backup. Right?”

His daughter grins at him and snuggles further into his side.

“Right,” she agrees.

Tony dismisses the alert and returns his attention to the movie. With Edith’s notifications on priority, Tony settles in to continue their father-daughter movie marathon.

As much as he hates not being allowed out of bed almost ever and not getting to see his basically-adopted son, it does leave a lot of bonding time with his daughter, so that’s something. Of course, he is really looking forward to getting to tell Peter that he’s not dead. (He’s considered just sending the kid a text to inform him, because he knows how unfair it is to leave the kid in the dark.)

But for now, Peter’s on a summer trip and having a good time. He told Fury no to helping with the Elementals, and Tony is proud of him for that. Everything is going just as it should.

*

Peter realizes very quickly just how much nothing is going as it should. He’s supposed to be enjoying his school trip! Having fun, sight-seeing with Ned and MJ and all the others. He’s on vacation! He shouldn’t be forced to sneak away from his class to be Spider-Man and save the world!

Alright, admittedly, saving the world is important. He should want to do that.

But he’s already helped do that once, and it’s still giving him nightmares. He sees Tony in his dreams almost every night - staring blankly at nothing, his body limp, the arc reactor flickering unsteadily.

Peter didn’t go to a funeral, though he supposes there was one. He was probably invited, too. But he changes the subject when Happy brings anything relating to Tony or the Avengers up, and he’s been ignoring Pepper’s texts. They’ve been sitting, mostly unread, in his inbox for a while. She’s even sent a few emails that Peter promptly created a new folder for so he doesn’t have to see them every time he opens his gmail account.

It’s not that he doesn’t want to talk to her. It’s not that he doesn’t care about the little girl Tony called his sister. Morgan’s cute and sweet. Peter got to meet her once. He thinks he would love her - trade the _world_ for her - if he got to know her, but that’s terrifying. He’s not sure he’s ready for that.

None of that is the point, of course, because right now, he’s being suckered into saving the world again when there are almost literally countless other people who could do it instead. And they would be so much better than Peter Benjamin Parker from Queens, New York.

Fighting the Elemental is weird, but he can’t quite put his finger on why. It feels like it just doesn’t exist. As if there’s nothing there. Of course, it _hits_ like there’s something there, so he knows that’s untrue. He just doesn’t understand what’s going on.

Thankfully, Peter’s pretty sure it’s over after that. The Elemental is gone, Beck is still alive, and Peter is…

Well, Peter’s okay. But he’s definitely convinced Tony made the wrong decision when he left Edith and the glasses to him. Peter can’t be the next Tony Stark.

That gives him an idea.

“Edith?” he says. The glasses come to life immediately, his vision going slightly blue-lit from the tint.

_”Yes, Peter?”_

“I want to transfer primary control over to Quentin Beck.”

_”I’m sorry,”_ Edith responds immediately, which makes Peter frown. _”I can’t do that.”_

“Why not?” he asks the AI.

_”You do not have the power to authorize new user personnel. Only Tony can do that.”_

Peter frowns even further. That… that doesn’t make sense. Tony is dead.

It must be an oversight. A pretty big one, but then… No one’s perfect, he supposes. Even Tony Stark.

“Everything alright?” Beck asks. He’s frowning now, too, clearly confused.

Peter takes off the glasses and Edith powers down.

“Yeah, uh…” He stares at the glasses in confusion. “She says I’m not authorized to add new personnel, so… I actually _can’t_ transfer ownership to you.”

There’s a flash of something in Beck’s eyes, but it’s gone before Peter can analyze it. Then the man smiles at him, and reaches over to clap a friendly hand to his shoulder.

“It’s a sign, Peter. If Tony had that kind of faith in you, there was obviously a reason for it. This may not be the responsibility you want, but you have it now. I’m sure with time, you’ll figure this out.”

Peter smiles at his newfound friend, fingering Edith’s glasses between his hands.

“Thanks.”

“For now, though,” the man continues, “I think you should go chase that girl you were talking about. She sounds like an easier first step.”

He nods and stands, then goes to leave the crowded bar. Peter hooks the glasses on the collar of his shirt as he walks out of the building and down the street.

When he glances back through the window, the bar is darker and it doesn’t seem as crowded.

*

**Priority Alert:** [Peter Parker] attempted to transfer control of E.D.I.T.H. to [Quentin Beck]. Attempt was denied.

Tony doesn’t even have to pause the movie this time. It’s been hours, now. Actually, over a day. Morgan’s gone to sleep and woken back up again. They’ve watched countless movies that Tony hasn’t paid too much attention to. Just enough to make sure to have the appropriate reactions at the right time for Morgan’s sake.

They’re alright movies, but being able to do little more than sit around has been getting to him. He’d like to take Morgan to play outside, but he’s not allowed to do that yet. Can’t even walk around the house by himself without Pepper or Rhodey or Happy with him.

But Edith’s notification comes through with a yellow exclamation point on it and pauses their third rewatch of Frozen 2.

He frowns.

Quentin Beck… Tony vaguely remembers that name. The guy used to work for Stark Industries a long time ago, back before the world ended and restarted. He helped make the hologram tech for BARF.

Why on _earth_ would Peter be handing him control of Edith?

“Daddy?” Morgan asks, turning a frown up at him.

Tony just kisses her head and stands with some difficulty. Pepper’s not in the room, but he needs to talk to someone. Someone who isn’t his five-year-old daughter.

“Honey?” he calls out for his wife.

Pepper appears in the archway to the hall within seconds while he’s still making his way over there.

“Tony? What is it?” the woman asks, eyes worried and tone anxious. “Are you okay?”

He waves off her concern for himself. “I’m fine. Just- have you heard anything from Peter?”

A sad look fills her eyes as Pepper frowns.

“No,” she answers with a shake of her head. “He’s ignoring my texts. Did something happen?”

Tony winces as he leans against the wall next to her.

“Well, he just attempted to give control of Edith to Quentin Beck. And I would like to know why.”

Pepper frowns and nods, clearly already thinking to herself.

“Alright,” she decides after a minute. “I’m calling Fury and Dr. Cho. With any luck, we’ll get you permission to call Peter and ask him what’s going on.”

Tony smiles at her as she turns and walks away. She’s a woman on a mission, and god help anyone who stands in her way. Once she’s gone through, he slumps in the way Cho says he shouldn’t because it’s bad for his healing back and sighs to himself. Tony crosses his arms over his chest and just stares down at them.

He knows what the answer is going to be.

They’re not going to let him call his kid. Fury especially won’t let him because that might mean he’ll be able to talk Peter back out of helping with whatever thing the former spy and director of SHIELD has roped him into. Cho likely won’t because Tony’s a long way off from being “recovered” and she said he at least needs to be able to walk without supervision before he can be allowed into _any_ form of the public eye.

Tony has never been one to follow the rules, but in this one thing, he thinks he has to agree. Admittedly, when he was forced into going along with this plan, he could hardly talk or move under his own power, so he’s not sure what else he could have done. But now that he _can_ talk for himself…

“Daddy?” Morgan calls from the couch. It’s been replaced by a less stylish - though much comfortable - pull-out couch. He and Morgan spend a lot of time on it with the bed pulled out, especially since it’s easier to keep Tony in one place than transfer him back and forth between the bedroom upstairs and the living room. It’s easier to do now that he can move better, but still. It’s the convenience of it that’s nice.

“Is Petey okay?”

Tony looks at his daughter. His beautiful, adorable, sneaky, snarky daughter.

“Yeah, Morgan. Petey’s okay. We’re just trying to talk to him. Don’t you worry about it.”

“Always worry about Petey,” Morgan admits quietly. She crawls to the side of the bed and drops herself to the floor. The move is much more graceful than it used to be. Once the five-year-old has her feet firmly under her, she walks herself right up to Tony and latches onto his good leg.

“Is he coming to visit soon? Mommy said Petey would visit…”

Tony bends (even though he’s not supposed to), and lifts the little girl into his arms. (He’s not supposed to do that, either.) He presses a kiss to Morgan’s head when she snuggles up into him. One of the girl’s little hands rests intentionally over the arc reactor in his chest. Tony will admit he enjoyed having the reactor out of him, but he’s thankful that Dr. Cho was able to use the same technology again when his heart wasn’t strong enough after the second snap. The reactor didn’t used to be too involved in keeping his heart beating, but it is now.

Morgan likes to watch the steady blue light it gives off, shining through his shirts.

He can’t promise her that Peter’s going to come. Originally, they were pretty sure Peter would stay in touch with Pepper and Morgan, which would have made it easier to break the news of Tony’s survival to the teen. Of course, then he _hadn’t_ and now only seems to associate with Happy, but mostly only based upon the man’s proximity to May. Now they’re not sure what to do or expect.

“It’ll be alright, Mo,” he tells her. Tony won’t promise Peter will visit, but no matter what happens, things will be alright. Tony will make sure of that.

He stands there against the wall for a couple minutes, but only up until his back really starts to hurt. Technically, he’s not allowed to hold Morgan while he’s standing up. But then, he never has been very good at saying no to his baby girl, so what she wants, she usually gets.

Tony shuffles back to the bed and settles himself and the little girl back on the soft mattress. It’s not late, but Morgan didn’t nap this afternoon, and Tony finds himself yawning, too. There’s nothing he can do about Peter for right now. He just has to leave Pepper to do her magic until something else happens.

Tony lays down next to Morgan, who cuddles up to him almost immediately. Tony wraps an arm around the child and closes his eyes. He falls slowly into sleep, the swirling dreams that come making very little sense, but showcasing quite a bit of Peter.

Pepper comes back in an hour or so, but finds both her husband and daughter asleep. The answers from both Fury and Dr. Cho were no’s. Fury doesn’t want Tony compromising Peter in the middle of all this, but assures them the issue has been taken care of and is over. Dr. Cho tells her Tony isn’t well enough to be out in public yet, and she is fully aware that he would go himself if given even the slightest chance.

Pepper decides that’s not good enough, though. Their boy needs them, she’s sure of it. And nothing will keep her from her son. Peter may not officially be her’s or Tony’s, but that doesn’t matter much. Tony figured out _time travel_ just to get Peter back. He’s as much a part of this family as any of them.

She backtracks back out of the room, leaving her family to their late afternoon nap. She has a teenager to try and contact again.

*

In hindsight, Peter should have known something was wrong.

The hairs on the back of his neck were standing on end from the moment he, Ned, Ned’s new girlfriend, and MJ entered the restaurant. It’s lunchtime, and Peter is starving. Thanks to his powers and increased metabolism, Peter burns calories like it’s nobody’s business. And that’s when he’s _not_ doing Spider-Man stuff, which burns even _more_ calories. Peter has to eat a lot to keep up with it.

Unfortunately, he can’t eat as much as he normally would to keep up with his body, given that it would seem odd. That, and he only brought and has access to so much money. He and May aren’t as bad off as they used to be, once upon a time, so it’s not as big of a concern. It helps that he still has some of those protein, calorie-packed nutrient bars Tony and Dr. Banner created for him. Captain Rogers and Mr. Barnes eat them too, so even without Tony around, they’re still getting made. Happy delivers Peter’s to him when he starts to run out.

But Peter also knows he can’t subsist of just those, so he’s sort of looking forward to being home where he doesn’t have to hide his eating habits from people who don’t know his secret.

So now that they’re here in the restaurant, Peter’s happy to order lunch and dig in the moment it gets to the table.

His pasta tastes funny, though. Not just funny… _bad_. His stomach is rolling, he’s got a headache building behind his eyes and in his forehead. His mouth feels tingly, his throat is absolutely burning. It’s at that moment when the smell hits him, and he realizes his mistake.

Peter nearly throws up right then and there.

His friends zero in on his reaction within seconds.

“Peter?” Ned says, getting nervous. “What’s wrong?”

Peter spits his mouthful of pasta back out on his plate, feeling his stomach revolt violently. It’s not polite, but he’d rather this than continue to ingest anything he’s severely allergic to.

“Mint,” he wheezes out. “There’s mint.”

MJ frowns and looks between him and the pasta dish. “I didn’t think there was any mint in that dish.”

“There is,” he chokes out as he all but throws himself out of his seat. Peter hurries for the bathroom.

He thinks Ned is right behind him, but he can’t tell and he’s not sure he cares. It’s getting hard to breathe, and he’s trying his best to not throw up on the restaurant’s floor. Peter doesn’t want to make more of a mess for someone to clean up, even if he feels like he’s about to explode.

It takes too much time and too much effort to find his way into the bathroom. Once he’s inside, Peter all but throws himself to the floor in front of the toilet. His knees crack against the tiled floor. Or, the floor cracks as he hits it - he’s not sure. The contents of his stomach makes an appearance in the bowl within seconds, though he quickly realizes it’s just making it harder to breathe.

His throat is tight and his lungs are burning. Every part of him feels like it’s on fire.

Peter’s senses are going haywire. There’s a pounding in his ears that might be his heart, or maybe his rushing blood, or maybe firsts on the restroom door. There might be hands on him, but he can’t tell. And even if the hands are real, he can’t figure out if they belong to one of his friends, or to someone else. His eyes are squeezed shut, but he knows that even if he opens them, all he’ll see are blurs of color through his tears.

Peter’s vaguely aware of some sort of alarm bell going off, but he can’t tell if that’s real or not. There really are hands on him, now - he can tell. They move and shift him, lifting him up. His back hits what feels like a stretcher, but he can’t breathe anymore. This position is so much worse. He’s not paying attention to anything. He can’t.

The world, when he can see it through his watering eyes, goes dark around the edges. The darkness creeps up on him, blurring everything even further.

Peter thinks he hears sirens, but he’s not sure. The world fades away before he can figure it out.

*

Tony jerks and all but throws the screwdriver he’s working with when another alert from Edith comes up. This one, unlike the others, is bright red and making an anxiety-inducing sound. Tony figures he probably chose this sound for that exact reason, but he’s regretting it now for how quiet the room had been beforehand.

That, and his heart can’t quite take this kind of fright anymore.

That’s not at all what he’s worried about though, when he actually reads the alert.

**EMERGENCY:** [Peter Parker] is experiencing a severe allergic reaction. Immediate medical attention advised. Anaphylactic shock imminent.

Tony shouts for Pepper, already moving. Thank _god_ he’s already in his wheeled desk chair.

Pepper’s in the room in less than two seconds.

“I saw,” she says without preamble. “What do you want me to do?”

Tony stands, ignoring the twinge in his leg and back as he does so.

“Stay here with Morgan. Call Rhodey and Happy, maybe Sam. I’m going.”

Pepper is immediately in his way.

“The hell you are,” she tells him. “You’re staying here. I’ll send Rhodey, or I’ll go myself, but you are not leaving this house. Dr. Cho hasn’t-”

“That’s my kid out there, Pepper! That’s _our_ kid, and he’s _dying_! I’m not just going to _sit_ here and let it happen!” Tony doesn’t mean to shout, but he does. Thankfully, Pepper doesn’t flinch, or shy away, or stare at him with that betrayed look she gave him the other morning when he stole a bit of her pancake.

“You. Are not. Going,” the redhead insists.

Tony doesn’t have time for this argument. Peter needs him.

“You aren’t even able to walk yet, there’s no way Dr. Cho’s going to let you fly-”

Tony stands straight, giving away none of the discomfort he feels.

“The suit can do the walking for me. FRIDAY’s got this. But I need to get to him.”

Pepper stares him down for several too-long seconds. In that time, another alert comes in, informing them someone’s used an epi pen on Peter. He’s not in completely dire straits anymore, but he still needs medical attention. Regular medications can only do so much for an enhanced spider-kid. Of course, the problem with that is any hospital will notice almost right off the bat that something’s up with him. He’s not normal, and sometimes it’s painfully obvious.

Finally, Pepper nods and steps out of the way so he can leave the room.

“Fine,” she concedes. “But you’re not going alone. I’m calling Rhodey and having him go with you.”

With that, she whips out her phone and has their best friend on the line in mere seconds.

Tony thinks this might be one of the only arguments he’s ever been (and ever will be) allowed to win.

The housing unit for the nanotech of his Iron Man suit is just on the other side of his workspace. He has to attach it right over his new arc reactor, which it wasn’t designed to do, but the nanotech does integrate around it, which it _was_ designed to do.

Tony hasn’t been in one of his suits since the snap. It feels simultaneously weird and like coming home.

“Rhodey’s on his way, and he has Peter’s location. He’ll meet up with you on the way there.”

Tony nods, feeling the familiar restriction of a helmet around his head.

“I’ll let you know when we have him,” Tony tells her. Then he takes off through the shute he designed into the cabin, explicitly for this purpose of taking off from the basement workspace.

It’s just after he rockets past Rhodey, who quickly catches up with him, that Edith appears on his screen again.

Someone’s hacking into her systems, and attempting to manually change her ownership.

And Peter’s just been hit by a train.

*

Peter wakes up in a jail cell, surrounded by people he doesn’t know. At first, he can’t tell if what he’s seeing is real. It might be another one of Beck’s tricks. But when he closes his eyes again and breathes for a second, he can hear the men’s heartbeats near him, and feel their presence. He really is sitting on a bench in a jail. There’s an orange shirt draped over him like it’s a blanket, which one of the guys tells him they gave him because he looked cold.

Well, Peter does tend to get cold.

He stands and limps to the cell door. Breaking the lock is easy, and letting himself out is easier. There’s a guard in another room, playing around with his “night monkey” mask, which he thinks is both weird and makes him want to laugh.

Instead, he continues on, limping and hurting, but at least thankful he can breathe. It hurts like a _bitch_ , but he can breathe. There’s still a splitting pain in his head, and he can’t tell if that’s leftover from his reaction, Beck’s illusions, or getting hit by a train. Peter doesn’t stop to think about it - just walks and limps and tries to figure out where he is and what he’s going to do.

He’s thankful he’s still got his Stark watch, but it’s busted up enough he knows he won’t be able to contact anyone with it. At least it’s still telling time, and it’s even changed the timezone, so it must still be able to track his location.

That’s something, at least.

Peter borrows some guy’s phone and calls Happy, not sure what else to do.

“Happy?” he says into the receiver when the man answers the call. “It’s me. Hey, I… I need you to come get me. I messed up.”

Happy’s voice is a mixture of relieved and heartbroken when he answers.

_”Oh, Peter!”_ he sighs. _”Thank god, you’re alive.”_

Peter frowns.

“Why wouldn’t I be-? How did you know something’s wrong?”

_”Listen, kid, I’m already on my way, alright? I’ve got your location and I’m heading to you. Rhodey’s on his way to take care of Beck. Tony’ll get to you before I do.”_ Happy says a lot of things all at once, which just confuses Peter’s brain even further. It could make sense that Happy would be able to tell where Peter is, but he’s not sure why the man’s already on his way here. Or why Colonel Rhodes would know about Beck and already be on the job to stop him.

And Tony…

All Peter can do is stutter.

“W-what? I-I-I don’t- I don’t understand. Happy, what-?”

_”There’s a lot we’ve got to tell you, Peter. Pepper’s been trying to for a while now. We’ll get it cleared up, I promise. Just hang tight until we get there, okay? We’re taking care of everything.”_

Peter thinks this must be a trick. Beck must be playing games still. Tony’s not alive. He died after the second snap.

Peter sniffles unwillingly, his breath picking back up again and getting harsher.

“Tell me something only you would know.”

_”Something only I would know? Uh… You- I- uh, remember when we went to Germany? You pay-per-viewed a video in your room? They didn’t list the titles, but I could tell by the price it was an ‘adult film’ at the front desk. And you didn’t know how I knew-”_

Peter almost sobs in relief, even though his embarrassment is skyrocketing.

“Okay! Okay! Fine, it’s you, it’s you, stop-”

Happy’s voice goes real soft for a second.

_”Just hang tight, kid. We’ll be there soon. Tony’s got an ETA on you for about half an hour. Just hang on. Love you.”_

Peter doesn’t know how to respond to that. The line goes dead before he can find anything to say.

He hands the phone back to the cheese farmer with many a thank you, then goes to find somewhere to sit and wait.

Tony will be here soon. Somehow, someway, Tony will be here.

Peter finds a field of tulips and sits down in the middle of it, nursing his injuries as well as he can and ignoring the tears that fall and seep into his blood-stained pants.

Tony’s coming.

*

Peter’s location is a blinking red dot that’s getting closer by the second. Tony’s beyond thankful the kid’s watch is still partially working, or else they might have had a hell of a time finding him. Happy called Tony just minutes ago, telling him Peter had called from some random guy’s phone.

The kid’s in the Netherlands. He’s a long way from where he’s supposed to be.

Tony would like to sink his fist into Beck’s face, if only because of whatever he’s done to his kid that’s led them here.

When Happy said he told Peter Tony’s alive, the man puts on an extra burst of speed. At least the kid will have some warning that his whole world view is about to turn upside down. Tony was a little worried about what he would say or what he would do once he got to Peter, and was faced with an injured, grieving teenager.

Tony cuts his flight time by ten minutes, following Peter’s tracker into a field of colorful tulips.

Peter looks up suddenly when he hears the suit and scrambles to his feet as Tony lands. The impact with the ground, while much gentler than it typically is in a battle, still sends little jolts up Tony’s right side that he doesn’t really appreciate.

The moment he’s down, FRIDAY retracts the helmet so Peter can see Tony’s face.

“Mr. Stark? Is that you?” Peter calls to him. There’s a good fifteen feet of space between them.

Tony’s chest constricts tightly. He feels his eyes begin to sting.

“Yeah, buddy. It’s me.”

He takes a step forward but Peter flinches backwards, nearly losing his balance where he’s keeping most of his weight off his right leg.

“No, just- sorry,” Peter apologizes. “Just- tell me something only you would know.”

Tony immediately starts flipping through everything Peter’s ever told him, everything they’ve ever done together.

“Do you remember, years ago, when I took you out to lunch on your birthday? You chose this little rundown place I’d never even noticed before, but the food was great. It was everything you said it would be and more. Afterwards, we went window shopping, and you said you wanted to buy something for May, so we walked into this little shop you know she likes.

“And before I even knew what was happening, you were on the floor, coughing and choking because they had about a million mint-scented candles burning. I had to rush you back to the medical center so Bruce could treat you before you went into full anaphylactic shock.”

Tony feels the tears well at the memory, but he pushes onwards, because that’s not the part that matters. That’s not the part he wants Peter to remember.

“When you woke up, it was late. I was still there because I couldn’t bear to leave you until I knew you were alright. You were so out of it, rambling absolute nonsense.” Tony chuckles wetly. Peter looks at him with wide, red-rimmed eyes. “But you stopped and looked at me with perfect clarity and said, ‘I love you’. And all I could do was sit there and cry like a baby. I asked you that night to be a part of my family, do you remember? For you and May to be with Pepper and me.”

Peter sniffles and comes closer.

“I believe the words you used were ‘can I adopt you?’...” the teenager says.

Tears spill over Tony’s cheeks. He taps twice at the housing unit on his chest so the suit recedes. Then it’s just Tony standing there, dressed in the soft pants he likes to wear around the house and one of his ratty old t-shirts.

“I did,” he agrees.

Peter’s crying, and Tony can’t stand it anymore.

He takes a step or two closer to his kid, holding his arms out.

“Come here, spider-baby.”

Peter’s face crumples in relief as he limp-runs his way into Tony’s arms.

“Tony!” Peter cries, the sound muffled into the man’s shirt. His arms cling around the retired superhero with that unnatural strength of his, but never too tight. Peter has long since gotten the hang of his powers, and knows when he’s too much.

Tony wraps the teen up in as tight of an embrace as he can give. With his replaced, mechanical arm, it’s easy. He’s aware that Peter is still hurt. His feeling factor should be working, but there’s not a guarantee right now, and even still, sometimes it needs a helping hand. Judging from the blood all over the kid, he likely needs a few stitches here and there, and could probably do with a few ice packs (or several).

That can wait for a second. It’ll be easier to treat the kid when Happy gets here with the jet. For now, Tony will hold his kid, pet at his sweat-soaked, blood-crusted curls, and reassure him that he’s alright. That everything will be fine. They’ll get everything sorted, Peter’s done the best he can.

They sink to the ground to sit and wait for Happy. The position isn’t great on Tony’s still-healing body, but he truly could not care less. Peter falls asleep and dozes on Tony’s shoulder. The position is a little awkward, and Peter’s a little big, but Tony pulls him into his lap and lets him curl up there for a while.

“I’ve got you, bug,” Tony promises with a gentle press of a kiss to Peter’s forehead. “I’ve got you.”

*

Peter didn’t mean to fall asleep. He wakes up in Tony’s arms to the sound of a jet hovering above them, coming in to land. His whole body aches, from his head right down to his toes, and he hardly wants to move. Which seems to work out, because Tony doesn’t let him. He keeps his arms (one real and one mechanical like Mr. Barnes’) around Peter, steady and firm, as Happy leaves the plane and comes to meet them.

Finally, with one last squeeze and a sigh, Tony lets Peter up and they stand together. Happy meets them at the bottom of the stairs, pulling Peter into a hug that’s only slightly hesitant.

“Happy, it’s so good to see you,” Peter tells him.

Happy’s hands on Peter’s back are incredibly gentle, and hardly touch him at all. They do brush over a cut on his upper back, and that stings.

“Peter, you gotta tell us what’s going on,” he says.

“We can talk about it on the jet. Come on,” Tony says. He puts a hand on Peter’s lower back to encourage them both up into the plane.

Tony’s steps are careful and measured, though he seems mostly alright. Happy sends him first anyway, and stays a couple steps back to help Peter up. Peter, who less than half a day ago had been hit by a train. Peter, who had such a severe reaction to an allergen that he could have died.

It’s been a hell of a day, and if he thinks about it for too long, he thinks he might start crying again. He wants to, a little bit. Sit down, curl up close to Tony with Happy nearby and cry for a bit. Maybe take another nap. Naps are good.

But they don’t have time for that. They sit down and the first thing Happy does is have Peter strip off both his shirts, so he can inspect what external damage there is. The cut Peter felt earlier is obviously visible, because Happy makes a displeased sound at it.

Happy goes and pulls out a first aid kit and sets to work. Tony sits across from Peter and looks him in the eye.

“I’m sure you have a ton of questions, and I don’t blame you,” he starts seriously. “We’ll have more time to talk about it later, but for now, let’s just focus on you. Talk to me. What happened?”

So Peter sets into it. He tells Tony about Director Fury showing up, asking for his help. How the man hijacked his school trip because Peter gave him an answer he didn’t like. He explains about meeting Beck and how at first, he’d seemed so nice and genuine. Peter tells him about the glasses and trying to give them to Beck because he isn’t worthy of them.

Tony stops him there.

“Peter Parker,” he says, firmly but not angrily, “There is not a person on this earth I think is more worthy of having those glasses than you. Maybe the note was a little too much pressure, and maybe I jumped the gun a little bit with Edith’s acronym - but there is no one I trust with her more than I trust you. Got it?”

Peter nods mutely, then makes a face when Happy pulls the suture through his skin again.

“Hold still,” Happy encourages calmly.

One of Peter’s hands flexes spastically on the table. Tony tells him to continue.

So then it’s time for Peter to tell them about lunch with his friends, and how someone put a whole buttload of mint into his pasta, either to kill him or make it easier to kill him. Beck jammed an epi pen into his leg, which helped a bit. After that, with the medication in him, his healing factor was able to help him keep breathing, which was nice, even if it scratched and burned and hurt.

Beck took Edith from Peter, then basically threw everything at him that he could. Peter tried not to describe too many of the nightmares Beck made him see, but some were unavoidable, including the one about Tony’s grave.

Then it was getting hit by the train, clawing his way inside and passing out just to find himself awake in a jail cell in the Netherlands.

By the end, Tony looks downright murderous, and it makes Peter a little scared.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes quickly. “I’m so sorry. If- if I’d done something differently, none of this would have happened and-”

Another stab of Happy’s needle and Peter flinches.

“I thought you had super strength?” Happy asks, clearly going for teasing.

“It still hurts,” Peter shoots back.

“Alright, relax. Just a few more to go, and you’re done.”

“With this set,” Peter grumbles under his breath.

Tony sits across from them and waits silently.

Then Happy brings the suture in and out of Peter’s skin again, and this time it hurts worse. He shouts at the pain, slamming his hand against the table. Peter’s on his feet and pacing away, though he can feel the thread hanging down his back, unfinished.

“Relax!” Happy says, a little forcefully.

Peter flexes his fists, then slams his palms over his eyes, scrubbing at them and his cheeks harshly.

“Don’t tell me to relax! How can I relax? I’ve messed up so bad! I trusted Beck, I thought he was my friend. I tried to give him the _one_ thing I thought Tony left for me, and now he’s going to kill my friends and half of Europe - so please, do not tell me to relax.”

And just like that, all the fight drains out of him. He slumps and falls into the seat closest to him.

“I’m sorry,” he sighs. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t shout.”

“Pete,” Tony says. Peter looks at him.

He looks so much better than the last time Peter saw him. There’s a scar up the right side of his face, but it’s hardly noticeable at all, which Peter thinks is strange. One of his arms has been replaced, and he obviously favors the right side of his body. Peter can see the glow of an arc reactor in the center of his chest, beneath his ratty band t-shirt. He hopes it’s not keeping him alive, but Peter knows better than that. He can hear the difference in Tony’s heart. He really needs that reactor.

Tears well in Peter’s eyes again.

God, he’d missed Tony.

“I missed you,” he admits, trying not to sound like he’s crying.

Tony’s eyes go incredibly soft. He levers himself out of his seat and onto his knees on the floor. It can’t be great for him, but he does it anyway and cups Peter’s cheeks between his palms.

“I missed you too, Peter,” the man promises him. “So much. And I am so sorry that I haven’t been there for you these past months. I can’t make up for that. But I swear to you, I will be here from now on. I’m not leaving you alone again. Promise.”

Peter does cry at that, and he almost wishes he could find the energy to be ashamed of it.

“I’m sorry-”

Tony shushes him gently, wiping away tears with his thumbs. Peter’s cheeks stings where he knows he has a shallow cut. It should probably be taken care of, but he really doesn’t care.

“Hush, baby, you have nothing to be sorry for. You did everything right. Everything you were supposed to do. Relax now and let us take care of it.”

Tony stands Peter up and leads him back to Happy. The other man finishes his work on Peter’s stitches quickly, then starts in wiping down his other cuts and bruises, covering him in Neosporin and bandaids where they’re needed.

“We’ll take care of you, Pete,” Happy says to him as he pats down the last bandage. “We’ve got it.”

Peter pulls his black shirt back on and lets Tony recline his seat back so he can lay down. Then the man drapes a blanket that he seemingly pulled from nowhere over him. Tony presses another kiss to Peter’s forehead and tells him to sleep. Then he walks away.

Peter can hear Tony and Happy talking up near the cockpit, but they’re voices are low and he doesn’t care to listen in. He’s good at tuning things out when he wants to now. It’s easy to close his eyes and let himself drift. Flashes of anxiety and fear and a feeling like he can’t breathe linger at the edges of his mind, slowly creeping up on him as he falls into sleep.

A hand carding fingers through his hair helps keep them at bay. Peter does mean to fall asleep this time.

*

Tony doesn’t get to deal with Beck directly. Rhodey takes care of that with the help of a few of the other Avengers. They expose him for the fraud he is and send him to jail. Rhodey takes the Edith glasses and returns them to Tony later when he stops by the lakehouse to check on them all.

For all that it felt good (horribly frightening) to get out of the house, Tony is glad to be home. Peter doesn’t wake up once during the flight home, or when Happy picks him up to move him into the guest room. Tony stands in the doorway to the bedroom. The light is off, the curtains closed. It’s night, so the room is dark anyway, but Tony didn’t want to risk any extraneous sensory input waking up the spider-kid.

Peter sleeps soundly in the bed, even though he’s still banged up and definitely in need of a shower. Dr. Cho will be over tomorrow to give him a real check up, but for now, Happy’s patch job is doing well.

Tony can’t make himself walk away. Since he’s already upstairs, he fully plans to sleep in bed with Pepper tonight, which is a nice change of pace from sleeping in the living room. But he just continues to stand there and watch Peter through the dark. He can’t help but stare and wait, making sure his kid is still breathing.

“Dad?”

Tony turns.

The door to Morgan’s room is open just a crack, like it usually is. He can see the glow of her nightlight on the other side of the room. It’s not enough to bother Peter, for which Tony is thankful.

He steps across the hallway, nudges the door open just a little and pokes his head inside.

From the light of the galaxy shining on the ceiling, Tony can see his baby girl laying there. Her eyes are wide open, shining in the dark.

“Hey, Morguna,” he whispers back at her and enters the room all the way. He crouches next to the bed and smiles at the girl. “Shouldn’t you be asleep?”

She grins playfully back at him.

“Maybe.”

Tony huffles a chuckle.

“What’s up, pumpkin?”

“You brought Petey home, right?” Morgan asks.

Tony nods. “We did, yeah.”

“Can I see him?”

Tony reaches out, tucks a fly-away strand of hair behind his daughter’s ear.

“In the morning, if he’s feeling up to it. Your big brother’s had a trying week. He needs rest.”

Morgan nods, a sage look on her face.

“Make sure he gets lots of sleep, Dad,” she instructs him. “Like when I can’t sleep.”

He grins just a bit wider again.

Some nights, when Morgan can’t sleep, or claims she’s not tired, or suffers from nightmares too much for her to handle, Tony will lay with her. He plays with her hair and rubs her back, hums partial lullabies he thinks he remembers someone singing to him as a child. Sometimes they’ll do that for hours until the little girl finally falls asleep. Tony cherishes every moment of it, knowing that one day, she won’t need him to do that for her anymore.

“Pete’s gonna be just fine, don’t you worry. We’ll take good care of him.”

Tony kisses Morgan’s cheek and leans back on his heels.

“Do you want me to stay tonight? Or are you good for now.”

“‘M good,” Morgan hums. She turns on her back and stretches out, rubs her palms across her face tiredly. “I love you 3000.”

“I love you, too,” Tony replies. Then he stands with a bit of difficulty and leaves the room.

He can’t help but check in on Peter again before he goes to bed.

Which turns out to be a good decision, because he finds the teenager sitting up in bed, taking deep, heaving breaths.

“Peter?” he asks, stepping into the room. Tonight seems to be the night for his kids waking up.

Peter turns toward him, fast as a whip. Tony thinks he actually hears the kid’s neck pop on the movement, and he winces in sympathy.

“Hey, it’s alright,” Tony assures. “Just breathe.”

Peter calms quickly and easily, all things considered. Tony sits on the edge of the bed next to the teen, rubbing his back with one hand. He’s careful to avoid the stitched-up spots and gentle over the motley of bruises he knows are there.

“Nightmare?” Tony asks, quiet and gentle.

Peter swallows and nods, lets himself list slightly to lean against Tony.

“Do you wanna go back to sleep?” he asks. “Or, if you’d rather stay up, we could do something…”

“I’m so tired…” Peter whispers.

Tony hums.

“Okay. Sleep it is. Lie down for me, spider-baby.”

Peter shuffles himself back into a flat position on his side, turned to face Tony.

“Close your eyes… Relax…” he coaxes. Peter listens, closing his eyes and melting further into the mattress under Tony’s hand where he rubs along his shoulder.

“I’ll stay until you fall asleep,” he promises.

The teenager opens his eyes again and looks up at Tony with wide, worried eyes.

“What if I wake up and it’s all been a dream? What if you’re still gone in the morning?”

“In that case, I’ll stay here all night. And when you wake up tomorrow, I’ll still be here. I swear to you, baby.”

Peter’s eyes beg Tony to prove it.

So Tony stands, kicks off his shoes and pulls off the jacket he’s still wearing. He walks to the other side of the bed and climbs in. He lies down gratefully. Less than a second later, Peter’s shifting, inserting himself into Tony’s side. The young superhero curls up there, content. Tony can feel his heartbeat against his chest. It’s a little fluttery, but consistent and present.

Tony curls his arms around his kid, holding Peter against him. He smooths one hand up and down the teen’s back, and finds himself humming half songs and unintelligible melodies as they fall asleep.

“I love you 3000,” Tony whispers into messy brown curls before he can even think about it.

“Love you, too, Tony,” Peter responds. It’s half mumbled and muffled by Tony’s shirt, but he hears it anyway.

In the morning, Tony is right where he promised he would be. Peter hugs him with tears in his eyes before the man sends him off to shower with the promise of a large, filling breakfast ready for him afterwards.

“Thanks, Dad,” Peter mumbles, going with clean clothes and a towel in his arms.

“Anything for you, kid,” Tony promises, and he absolutely means it.

Anything.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
